buzz word

I got a call from my sister ... "how do you spell". Earlier, I was asked how do you pronounce, "Barabbas". I guess I am functional after all. All this time I knew I was useless, perhaps I am like a stamp dispenser. I don't get used often, but still, I somewhat serve a purpose.

The missing word was not in the dictionary, so it was nothing that could be "found".

experiment in noir

scene seen before dying?

bangled banner

Why it was happening so often!

I cannot believe one of these was on my car seat. How often did I sit on that? I also found on in the toe of one of my shoes. I finally figured out how I was getting so much bullcrap! I get it now! I will have to look on my pants to see if there is one there as well.

sans camera II

I met up with a friend earlier and had a great little walk through downtown, then Sweeney Park. We got a chance to talk, though I was quieter and duller than normal. Sad to type, I was walking without the feeling of a soul -- zombie able to do much, but not feel. I really wasn't good company, but she was happy to be near and around me anyway.

The cutest thing we saw on the walk were goslings. One was alone with a mom, trying desperately to catch her wiggling the butt as quickly as possible. The other was a small family all clustered around the, presumably mommy and daddy. They were fuzzy and watching it gave you the warm fuzzies.

It was a nice walk with her; I only wish I had been there.

sans camera

Well I was out of sorts last night, walked for a bit and in a park separated by about a quarter block were two chairs facing different directions. I was wondering why they were there. I first thought, 1st chair and 2nd chair, an odd orchestra, but there just the two. A woman walked by me with a terror on a leash. That 4 pounds of canine wanted to slay me then and there. She tried to coax her defender from ripping me toe to calf. I think we both got to laugh over the adventure.

mmm, yummy

I'm having a problem and I show it to a point that someone asked me, "what's wrong". I can't talk about it. I can't fix it like a bloody wound so simply with a band aid. I sometimes forget of the fragrance and smooth flavor of stomach acid, bile, and mucus lining. While the flavor is sickening, the smell is a bit like vitamins A & D mixed while the texture is chunky with mixed viscosity.

To compliment this meal of racked nerves and bad flavors my stomach plays a great little concert with lots of percussion. There feels to be pyrotechnics that I can't see, but feel. Um ... yeah! I'm not yet puking, but foresee it.

My whole system is a bit funky with nerves twitching and my adrenal glands in fairly high gear. "Fight or flight" panicked state shock and a preference for simplicity that I can't find. Never mind Nirvana, I can't find a comfy seat. My muscles all want to march in different directions.

My head hurts and I'd rather be blank for a while, but I am not.